


The Miracle of Your Love

by Atharianias (KrismMoon)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Original Character(s), POV Second Person, pre-polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-01-29 14:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrismMoon/pseuds/Atharianias
Summary: Meeting you was fate, loving you was a miracle.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by this quote I found:  
> "Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you was beyond my control."  
> \- Unknown  
> I thought, well, this needs a sad version.

_Meeting you was fate, loving you was a miracle._

\----

You saw him lean down to kiss her, saw the blush rise to his cheeks and thought

_oh_

_it's you_

But where the tales speak of love, all you feel is a void - a great, gaping hole in your chest - expanding with every laugh he expels.

He disgusts you, your soulmate. You've had dreams of this very moment, of seeing your other half look you in the eyes and knowing

_oh_

_it's alright now, because you are here with me_

Instead, this man, this...

The words will not come, you are certain the bile rising up your throat is the only reason you feel faint. You feel as a ghost, a wanderer in a strange land. Mere minutes before, you held his gaze and saw

_nothing_

_nothing_

_nothing_

You can see the gentleness in his face, the contentedness of their union, and it is a bitter sight. Your heart is slowly breaking, muscle and sinew warping into ice and stone. You shouldn't be here. You don't belong here, in this place of happiness.

Once, when you were young, your mother wrapped her brittle arms around you and whispered that it is fate to meet your other soul, a miracle in a world of unfairness.

But now, taking in this couple, you realize that for all her rosy stories, and bright, hopeful dreams, she still died cold and small in her cot, in the hovel her lover had left her in, where she raised a baby alone. There are no miracles, you understand that now. The final anvil of this realization has fallen, stricken your foolish heart, and torn it asunder.

Meeting him was fate, yes.

_He's looking at you now. He looks..._

It would take a miracle to love him.

And miracles don't exist.

You turn and leave quietly.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walked away, and left him standing in the park, holding his wife's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt the urge to expand on the story and to provide more perspectives to the scene from the first chapter.

You see the moment that beautiful face falls and twists into an ugly scowl; it leaves you burning into ashes. Your wife calms you with a sweet kiss that you can't help but fall into. Her warm comfort eases the ache filling up your tender heart.

Not a day goes by that you wish you didn't became the person who used this woman as a crutch, but she was there to see you crack, helped you to glue yourself back together when you shattered. You owe your life, your sanity - your existence to this person at your side. _But still..._

You knew who they were the moment they walked into the park. How could you not? That fissure hidden in your soul had flared painfully, and faintly, you thought you heard a distant voice whispering your name.

You looked into their eyes and saw

_despair_

_anguish_

_anger_

You pulled away with a soft cry and turned to your wife, catching her worried gaze. Your other soul is broken, so riddled with pain. They lack the depth of one at peace. It reminds you of the person you were before her helping hand; a shell of a man, walking aimlessly down the narrowing paths of his life, growing dimmer and colder with each step. 

You don't know how to be the person your other soul needs, the way your wife was with you. They deserve better than confusion and self-indulgent anxieties. Still, you find yourself watching this broken soul, and the reality that _you dreamed of this moment since your birth, bled for it under violent hands and harsh words_ crashes into you just as they turn away, shoulders slumped and head bowed.

You want to try. You want to be stronger than they made you. You want to prove them wrong.

You squeeze her hand and follow after your soulmate.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she watches her husband run after his soulmate, she finds herself contemplating her future.

You knew, from the moment he slid his hand into yours, that you would spend the rest of your life devoted to him. Some called you foolish during the first few years of your marriage. Nasty laughs and sharp eyes would follow your every step. For your husband, you endured. You became his lodestone, his guide through rough days and even rougher nights. For every tear he shed, you became more protective, more guarded. He needed you to be strong. Nobody had needed you before, and with him, you felt complete.

Eventually, as the years passed and those sharp eyes caught on something else to poke and prod, you found he had become more of a companion than the other girls at the house. When he smiled, a small, quiet thing, your heart would beat faster with its sweetness. You know that for every burden of his that you helped to shoulder, he repaid in kind; the nights you wake in tears have dwindled. The moments where you wonder if it is worth one more sunrise have lessened, and you find that each day, the answer is a louder _yes._

You also knew, from the moment you shared his bed, that his soul was bonded to another; out in the wide world, there was a person best suited to your husband's heart, and it wasn't you. It stung at first, you won't lie. But, as you learned how to live with him, you understood that it wasn't a reflection of your qualities, of what you were lacking, but what he could give _beyond_ you.

As your husband's other half walked away, all you can see is an image of when you first met him outside the house. His eyes had been dead, and he looked one day from ending it all. Is it fate for them to have met now? When one half is strong enough to care for the other? You don't know, but your husband is staring at you, pleading with you to understand. All you can see is that broken man you fell in love with, and you imagine a life where you let your sisters pull you back inside to deal with the patrons...

You find it easy to smile, even as he lets your hand go and runs after his soulmate.

The heart was not made to be home to one love, but to all you were willing to open up to. You didn't understand before, but as he slowly makes his way up the path with his soulmate clinging tightly to his hand, you think you can try.

The girls at the house understood that the heart was not a mystery to be unraveled; that earthly love was finite, paid by coin. They did not speak of the soft, deep love, which gave, and took in equal measures, and was priceless. Every moment of your courting had your sisters whispering that your relationship was an aberration; A whore, and a man of such high standing, in love?

But it makes sense now.

Your love is a miracle, and meeting these broken souls was fate.

In this unfair world, you are willing to give miracles a chance.

As they approach, you raise your head and smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what began as an angsty one-shot, has now turned into a hopeful story. I did not intend for this to happen! To be perfectly honest, the characters wrote themselves, which was a nice change to my usual attempts at writing. This is my first series posted on this site, and I'm stoked with how it turned out. Thank you for reading!


End file.
